Jess set up a nanny interview for me after months of gentle prodding, and instead of saying no, per usual, I was ready to accept. I’ve realized help isn’t a bad thing—it’s necessary, and it doesn’t make me a weaker person because of it. I’ve always been capable. I trust my intuition, and my intuition tells me it’s time for help.

I’m finally listening.

On the way back, I think about how much my life has changed in less than a year. I’m sleeping. I’ve found a good, local therapist. I’m no longer paranoid or imagining things. I’ve even formed a group for vision-impaired mothers in surrounding areas. We meet once a month at the local community center.

At my front door, I disarm the alarm and stick the key in the lock. The house has received a modest renovation thanks to the help of a contractor Jake knows. It’s nothing drastic, but it’s enough to make it feel like my home—not my mother’s.

As I turn the key, the hairs on the back of my neck prick to attention, and I rotate, key stabbing the air. My pepper spray hangs from my key chain, and I clutch it in my fist, ready to aim and spray. Beethoven barks in confirmation.

“Hey, it’s just me. Sorry to scare you.”

Crystal’s voice barbs my skin, and I take a step back until I ram into the door.

“Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to say good-bye. We’re leaving—moving. I’m … I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened.” Crystal approaches and places something in my hands. “For you. Good-bye, Bec.”

The opening and shutting of a car door sounds from the curb, and then an automatic window rolls down. “Bye, Ms. Rebecca! I’ll miss you so much!” Savi’s joyous voice blasts into the open space, and despite myself, I press a hand to my chest. It’s been months since I’ve heard her sweet little voice. My eyes fill with tears, and I’m thankful for the sunglasses.

I offer a timid wave as they pull away, and something releases. Blame. Guilt. Anguish. That part of my life is over. This part of my life is what matters. Despite that reality, I still wonder how Oliver is doing. I never even got to say a real good-bye.